


Take Care

by shamebucket



Series: Best Of [6]
Category: Room No. 9 (Visual Novel)
Genre: Alternative Perspective, Canon-Typical Violence, Codependency, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Experimental Style, Hurt No Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-14
Updated: 2019-05-14
Packaged: 2020-03-05 11:20:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18827653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shamebucket/pseuds/shamebucket
Summary: Ending B from Seiji's perspective.All obvious content warnings and trigger warnings from that ending apply in addition to the tags I added (being scarce with tags to avoid spoilers). Probably don't go into this one blind if you aren't familiar with the source material and stumble across it since the content is fairly intense.





	Take Care

**Author's Note:**

> Fair warning: I normally tag my Rn9 fics with dubcon as it applies to canon sex scenes, but the slant on this scene as I'm writing it is more noncon than dubcon. 
> 
> I don't have the game on me at the moment so I might have misremembered the dialogue, sorry if that's the case. 
> 
> Trying to do something different with this fic which may or may not work but I wanted to give it a shot.

My head is spinning and my body feels like it's on fire, still, after all this time has passed. An ache swells, carving a hole within me. It needs to be filled. There is only one thing that will satiate this need. 

I grit my teeth and punch the wall. "God damn it..." I mutter to myself. Selfishly, I wish for some respite, for release, for anything. But nothing's going to come. Nobody is going to save me. There's only one thing I can do. I need to take care of it. Inhale, exhale. My breath is unsteady, despite how much I try to calm it. No matter. It will be rough in a minute, regardless. Equally resigned and determined, I stand, shut off the cold water, and open the door. 

Light from the bathroom floods into our room, my shadow casting a distorted image of myself across the floor. You're lying on the bed, but I know you're awake. You're looking at me, your eyes narrowed, adjusting to the light. "Seiji?" you ask. "Are you okay?" I approach. I can't think about it, what it means. There's only one thing on my mind: taking care of it, taking care of it, I have to take care of this. If you can't take care of it, then I have to. I have to. 

Taking in a deep breath, I throw the blankets off of you. You sit up on your arms, alarmed, and gasp as I yank down your pajama pants and boxers. "What're you -- " you start, but it turns into a strangled moan as I take your penis in my lubricated hand and stroke it. You are as responsive to me as I am to you - reflex, trauma response. I don't know if I can touch you like a friend anymore. I don't know if we are friends anymore. This isn't a thing friends should ever do to each other. 

Once you're sufficiently hard, I straddle your hips and position myself on top of you, ensuring I am lubricated as well. "I'm putting it in." My voice doesn't sound like it belongs to me. Your eyes are open wide and you stammer, trying to find words that never come. They never come, do they? You never know what to say in situations like this. Hurried, the arousal completely unbearable, I grasp your penis with my hand, pointing it at my entrance, and slide down. 

Finally, some release. Unwanted as it may be, mostly for you but partially for me, I'm starting to feel satisfied. It's getting taken care of. I start rolling my hips and I moan. You feel unbearably good inside me, pulsing with blood and life. Beneath me, you stare, a complex cocktail of emotions on your face. You were always bad at hiding what you're thinking. You look hurt, confused, and aroused at the same time. Maybe a bit scared, too. I can't bear to look at you, so I close my eyes and whimper, rocking faster. 

This is my ultimate betrayal, the worst thing I could do, but it's the only choice I have. How else can I take care of this? I have to, if you can't. I've run out of other options. I've taken care of you as much as I can, over the years. Getting you into high school, helping you with university. Even in this godforsaken place - letting you ejaculate inside my throat, kissing you when it seemed like you had difficulty staying aroused, reassuring you that I wanted you to fuck me when the reality was much more complicated than that. I wanted it as much as you did, most likely (which is to say: not much). Did you ever care to ask how I've dealt with this? 

All the same, I have failed you. The evidence is my body on top of yours, thrusting without skill, my erection rubbing against your stomach. Sweat, water, and tears run down my face, unable to bear this. I have to get off. I have to finish so I can end this once and for all. Desperately, I grab onto my penis with my right hand and my nipple with my left, crying out. "Feels good," I sob, and it's not entirely a lie. This is a nightmare, violating you after I have spent so much time looking after you, but my body has shaped to yours and I can't imagine being able to get off without you, especially now. 

Beneath me, you are still, passive, letting me take control of the situation. Letting me come up with solutions where you have none. Letting me hurt you and get hurt since there is no better option. My breath comes out in fast gasps, my body boiling in its own sweat. "I'm going... to come!" I groan, fucking myself on you as fast as I can, desperately moving my hands, begging for it to all be over. 

And, in a merciful flash of light, it is. Every nerve on my skin bursts as I release, pleasure intensified as I realize that you, too, are coming, filling me with your seed. My body trembles and I whimper as I ride it out, the intensity of this orgasm bordering on painful. Pleasure and pain, satisfaction and agony. 

I wonder if you, too, had contemplated what it would be like if we were to someday make love, before we came here. Those days are long gone, now. This is all we have. And all we ever will. 

Orgasm finished, clarity finally returns to my mind. You are still underneath me, panting, bewilderment and sadness knitting your eyebrows. Before you can think on it too long, and before I can regret my decision, I lean over you and grasp your neck. I have to get us out of here right now, one way or another. I can't keep doing this to you. Can't stand what's happening to me, what this is turning me into. Even if it's too late to change what I've become, I have to try. 

"Ghkk...?" You struggle beneath me for a few seconds, but I keep my grasp true. This is for your own good, as well as mine. I dig my fingers into your neck deeper, my thumbs restricting your airflow. Your hands grasp onto my wrists to try to pull me away, but I'm stronger than you. I focus and hold tight. 

I can see a flicker in your expression as you realize what position you are in and what I am trying to do. As your face turns from pink to red, you close your eyes and grit your teeth, more yielding than upset. You understand, and you let go of my arms. No sense in struggling or fighting back. This is the end. I'll take care of you. 

_Once, I held out my hand... and you..._

I blink through my cloudy vision and exhale, shaky. You open your eyes in surprise as I loosen my grasp enough for you to breathe, and then finally pull away entirely, sitting on the edge of the bed with my head in my hands. I weep. You cough, stale air filling your hungry lungs. I feel you get up and sit next to me. I curl into myself and sob harder, hating myself both for trying to kill you and for not having the strength to do so. I can't even commit to being a monster. 

You're crying, too. I don't think I've ever seen you cry before. Not once. You and I have sunk below rock bottom. 

"Seiji... I'm sorry. I'm sorry!" 

Now, it's your turn. You push me on my back and start to strangle me. Reflexive, my body willing me to live, I claw at your arms, but you remain steadfast. Your tears fall onto my face. Hurts. I can't breathe... 

It's okay, Daichi. You're doing what you have to do. I can't be angry at you for this. Everything is terribly fucked up, but, despite everything, I still love you. I want you to be safe, no matter the cost. 

My vision starts going blurry. You're crying in the dark. Please don't cry, my dearest beloved friend. My hands go slack as you hold tight. I try to reach out to you, to caress your cheek, to tell you that I'm not upset. There's nothing I can do; my body is starting to ignore my commands. 

I do what I can. I smile. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Neon lights. The cicadas buzz loudly and the humidity of summer vacation sticks to my skin. You're sitting on the stoop of the convenience store nearest to your apartment, hungry and tired. 

"What are you doing?" 

You hug your knees, refusing to look at me. "I can't go back home."

I tense. "Is your dad hitting you again? Do you need medical attention?" I don't like your parents much. They seem like bad people. Why would good people treat a person as wonderful as you like garbage? 

You shake your head. "They're... gone." 

"Gone?" 

You squeeze yourself tight. "Yeah. Electricity's off. Nothing's left in the apartment except my clothes and futon. Guess I was too much of a brat, huh?" 

I clench my fists. I have to control my anger, for your sake. Slowly, I breathe out. "What are you going to do?" 

People come in and out of the convenience store, laughing, heading out to go home and eat and sleep in a cool room. "I don't know..." 

I hold out my hand. "Come with me." 

You look at me and tilt your head. "Hmm?" 

I insist, reaching down towards you. "Let's go home. Stay with me until we can figure something out." 

You stare at my hand, and then, after a moment's hesitation, take it and stand up. "Okay." The lights of the convenience store glitter in your wet eyes, but you don't cry. You never cry until the bitter end, no matter how much they punch and kick you and push you down. 

This is the moment that I take a vow, tacit, your fingers squeezing the back of my hand. Even if the world hates you, I never will. Even if the odds are stacked against you, I will be in your corner. I am here. I will take care of you.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see you rub your eyes with your spare hand as we walk hand in hand into the darkness of night.


End file.
